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All posts for the month April, 2010

Lady Gaga just topped Time Magazine’s 100 most influential list. If you’re not convinced, here are two parodies of her latest hit, “Telephone”, from two couldn’t-be-more-disparate sources: the slums of the Philippines and the United States military in Afghanistan.

Telephone by Lady Gagita featuring Haronce

This viral hit from Lady Gagita has already hit the entertainment blogs in the U.S. It’s not just a hit on Facebook and Twitter, it’s featued in many entertainment websites and blogs all over the world. I just love the resourcefulness. Trash bags for hats? And the kamias meals were hilarious!

Telephone by 2 guys in Afghanistan

Supposedly these are real U.S. military guys based in Afghanistan. Even these uber macho men (or are they?) can’t resist lipsynching to Lady Gaga’s hits. Her madness’ pull is too compelling for even these alpha males to resist.

And a bonus:

Bad Romance by On The Rocks

On The Rocks is an all-male (or are they?) a cappella group from the University of Oregon. Love her or hate her, she’s inescapable.

When I saw the billboard of a new product, a “masculine wash”, as opposed to a feminine wash, I was thrilled. Finally, equal rights! How come the females get to have a cleaning agent specifically to clean their vajenitals? So now it’s equal, men get to wash their loins with a wash specifically for that sensitive area for guys.

Okay fine, I’ll finally admit it, it’s not the first time I’ll be using a masculine wash. I was actually given a bottle of masculine wash about a year ago…made by a salon…ok fine, it was the “Fanny Serrano Masculine Wash”! Happy now?!? It did the job. When the bottle ran out, I didn’t have the balls (pun intended) to go to one of his salons to buy a bottle of his scrotum scrub. So I had no choice but to go back to washing with soap, sometimes shampoo, and on special days, anti-frizz conditioner.

So when I saw that there was going to be a product to be sold in regular groceries, I was thrilled. Right after the show yesterday, I went straight to Shopwise, but I couldn’t seem to find any. With head down and shades on, I asked the saleslady: “Miss, meron kayo nung panghugas ng…alam mo na…ibon?” When she brought me to the pet supplies aisle, I knew they didn’t have it. So I proceeded to the next nearest grocery, Hypermart, and there, nestled between the sanitary napkin and feminine wash sections, a spattering of small bottles of the masculine wash. It came in 2 variants, “tea tree” (don’t remove the “r”) and “freeze”. Of course, I bought both.

When I got home, I went brisk walking around the village. After about 30 minutes or so, after I’ve broken into a sweat, then was the perfect time to test how effective the new wash is, especially on a pair of itlog na maalat. So I rushed to the shower, and read the instructions. It said: “Pour a small amount in your hand, and gently massage into your genital area.” Of course, I didn’t put a small amount, because the “area” wasn’t, ahem, small, so I put a large amount for the large “area”, thank you very much. So I started to rub…and lather…it didn’t lather well, so I had to rub more vigorously…and massage…okay, let’s fast forward to the rinsing. It said to leave it on for about 3 minutes, so I did. I was sort of expecting it to be more, menthol-ey. It didn’t have the tingling sensation I was expecting, given I tried the “freeze” variant first. But it’s all good, I guess I felt sufficiently washed.

Had I been part of the marketing team, I would’ve named the product, “Head & Boulders” or “Gee Your Crotch Smells Terrific”. Because let’s face it, it’s an area we want smelling fresh, especially if there are people “in the position” to know if you do. I’m not flexible enough to test if my boys really smelled terrific, so I’ll have to get back to you on that.

Conclusion: I’m not sure men really need a masculine wash. I mean, I feel the same way if I used ordinary soap. Although someone texted during the show that there’s another brand coming out that has ginseng which improves your “performance” as well. Don’t ask me how that works. Plus, I’d prefer it if it felt cooler, so you’d feel like you have a hundred miniature groin elves fanning your balls with mini mint leaves. And maybe put some moisturizer in the formulation, for wrinkle-free skin? Or maybe calcium for stronger “bones”? Maybe that would make the extra product worth the trouble. And maybe I’d skip the instruction: “Shake well before using”. It might cause some confusion.

As I type, I’m dripping with sweat because I started brisk-walking around the village as part of my new fitness regimen. My doctor insisted that although diet is the primary concern, lack of exercise is just as dangerous as eating bad. Why am I sharing this? Because this is a long-delayed post, this dinner happened March 26, 2010, when my friends and I decided to try this 6-course dinner by SOCO: Private Dining By Reservation (it’s in San Antonio Village in Pasig).

I hardly get to indulge in dinners like this. The last time I think was when we did an 8-course dinner in Chef Laudico’s house way back in 2004. The reason I brought up my fitness regimen is that just when I fell in love with dinners like this, suddenly, everything is bawal. So I don’t know when I’ll get to partake of such a banquet again. I guess I’d have to get used to my usual plateful of tears instead. Anyway, we chose the SOCO Tasting Menu #1.

Cocktails

Baked Brie in Phyllo with Raspberries

This was DEEELICIOUS. I felt a bit guilty because it was on the sweet side of the spectrum. If not for the equal amount of saltiness, I would have mistaken this for dessert.

Hands-down my favorite of the 6 courses. Absolutely scrumptious! The combination of the Foie Gras and Raclette had my toes curling. It was hard to top this one.

Roasted Pumpkin Soup with Goat Cheese Whipped Cream

I’m not a big fan of pumpkin soup, so I’m not the best person to judge this. My niece makes a killer pumpkin soup, but I’m really just not into it. But based on the other pumpkin soups I’ve tasted, this one’s definitely one of the better ones.

Tiger Prawns on a pool of Squid Ink Sauce topped with Chorizo Fritto and Paella-flavored Risotto

Being a big seafood eater, I gobbled this up with much regret, because I was so patay-gutom that I think I didn’t give it the proper respect by eating it slowly, appreciating the fine flavors that went into it. My mind just saw: “FOOD!” and ate every last morsel. The squid ink on the side was a nice touch. I’d slide my prawn over it before popping it into my mouth and it gave the dish a nice twist.

Again, I’m not a big fan of steaks in general. Even as a kid, I wasn’t really into slabs of beef on my plate. I’m not a big chewer (I know, unhealthy), so unless the meat is EXTRA tender, I tend to chew a bit, then gag on the juice-less meat. But this one was definitely tender, and I enjoyed it a lot. I loved the prawns more, but this wasn’t bad at all. And to think we’ve gone through 4 courses before this, and yet I ate every last bit.

I was SUPPOSED to skip the dessert. But when it came out, how could I not venture even a little taste? Well, the “litlle taste” translated to eating half of this blissful experience. It was so sinfully good. I was glad we had coffee to balance out the sweetness. Of course a flood of guilt ensued once I put the chocolate-stained teaspoon down…

Overall, we were so happy that we swore to make this a regular hobby. My friend Lennie is such a Foodie that she has a couple more Private Dining restos lined up already. The price range is a bit steep though. But I felt that it was money well-spent. It’s such a luxurious gastronomic experience. It’s like being spoiled rotten through food. Good luck to me given my new stringent diet, but I guess I can treat myself every now and then to nights like these filled with good food, great company, and some food photography.

We’ve always had yayas, because my mom refused to hire male househelps, mainly because she didn’t feel safe with strange men around. But my sister did have a lesbian yaya (or at least she really looked like a boy). Everyone would ask if “it” was a boy or a girl, because people just couldn’t figure it out.

April 30, 2009 → The Top Ten Signs That Your Household Help Is Gay

No name – If, as your driver is parking, he asks you with a wink: “Ser, paano niyo gusto kong ipasok, PAHARAP o PATALIKOD?”

RC & Cess – If someone cuts your car, and your macho driver floors the gas, catches up to the car, rolls down his window, then shouts: “GAGA!!!”

Mr. Perk – You ask Dodong if he’s still single and he answers: “Dalaga pa po.”

Ugh. I don’t even want to post a photo of the car crash. I’m too upset. Let me start from Sunday morning. I was happily eating brunch when I got a call that our hosting for Pentel’s Earth Day was pushing through. It was a nice gig, it was for a great cause, and there was a performance by Christian Bautista and a meet-and-greet with Charice Pempengco. I left early enough with time to spare since I live very near Megamall. Then I realized that traffic was going to be hell. I decided to park in that huge outdoor parking between Mega and Podium. I tried to get into the Podium entrance, but I couldn’t wrangle myself into the long line. So I decided I’d go around to the Megamall entrance. As I turned from J. Vargas to Bank Drive, the bus on my right suddenly scraped into the right side of my car. The crunching metal-on-metal sound was sickening to my ears. Since traffic was horrible and moving in centimeters, I made the snap decision to just move forward to not cause any more traffic, knowing fully well that moving the car after an accident, nullifies my chances for a sketch for the police report, weakening my case against the bus.

Luckily, the bus stopped since passengers were getting off and the bus driver had to get the luggage from the bus’ belly. I approached the driver and said: “Ako yung may ari ng kotse na binangga mo.” To my utter disbelief, the driver goes: “Wala, wala akong nabangga!” I looked him in the eye and told him in as calm a manner as I could muster (because I wanted to poke his eyes out with my keys): “Wag ganyan. Kung gusto mo ipa-scrape natin yung pintura na nasa bumper mo at yung pintura sa gilid ng kotse ko at tignan natin kung match?” Eventually he relented and owned up to it. Jerk.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, because it’s painful to re-live it over again, I couldn’t stay to fix it because our event was about to start, and he couldn’t stay because he needed to deliver the rest of his passengers, so the Ortigas security guy just made me write a statement saying the bus hit my car, with all our details, then signed by me, the a-hole driver, the security guy, and the konduktora.

The awful thing about this is that I’m pretty sure that Philtranco will give me the runaround. Imagine me calling them up to say: “Hi, I’m the owner of the car one of your buses crashed into. Who do I talk to regarding you paying me?” I can’t imagine the bosses clamoring to tell me: “Quick, let’s redress the wrongdoing we have inflicted on this innocent victim! Pay him whatever it takes to make it easy on the poor fellow for inconveniencing him with our inept driver!” I don’t think so.

Anyway, my friend was telling me that I don’t have to go on a wild goose chase with the bus company. He said my insurance will chase their insurance, and the royal rumble will have to be between them, sparing me the added stress. I just don’t want that driver to get away scot-free.

This couldn’t have come at a worse time (not that there’s a perfect time to get into a car accident), but there’s a certain chaos I’m trying to maneuver through and this is like the bitter icing on an already unpalatable cake. I’m just trying to convince myself to find solace in what the elders in our family say when there is some sort of material loss: that the accident took the place of something that could’ve been worse. Like for instance, instead of somebody getting sick, the accident took it’s place. I know, it’s probably folk mumbo-jumbo, but if I can find some sort of comfort in trying to make sense of a probably random event, then I’d take it. It’s no big deal, actually, people crash their cars all the time. I’m just not in the best state to be zen about this.

I know, I know, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. But don’t you agree that some people are across-the-board ugly, just as there are people who are so beautiful they transcend personal taste? This reminds me of that heart-wrenching scene in “The Elephant Man” when John Hurt bellowed: “I am NOT an animal!”

April 27, 2009 → The Top Ten Things To Say If An Ugly Person Asks: “How Do I Look?” – Sent in by: Tato

It all started with this video link by Bon D. sent as a comment in one of my posts:

So I thought…okay…but what the hell is a jejemon? So I googled and researched, and finally found some answers. No exact definition, it’s best explained by visual example. For instance, here’s the for now, definitive description of what a jejemon is courtesy of Urban Dictionary:

1) Usually seen around social networking sites such as Friendster and Multiply, jejemons are individuals with low IQs who spread around their idiocy on the web by tYpFing LyK diZS jejejeje, making all people viewing their profile raise their eyebrows out of annoyance. Normal people like you and me must take a Bachelor of Arts in Jejetyping in order to understand said individuals, as deciphering their text would cause a lot of frustration and hair pulling.

CAUTION: THESE INDIVIDUALS ARE BREEDING! THEY CAN BE SEEN WRECKING GRAMMATICAL HAVOC ON FACEBOOK TOO!

2) Jejemons are not just confined to trying-hard Filipino gangsters and emos. A Jejemon can also include a variety of Latino-Hispanic fags who enjoy typing “jejejejeje” in a wider context, much to the disdain of their opponents in an internet MMORPG game such as Ragnarok and DOTA.

3) Basically anyone with a low tolerance in correct punctuation, syntax and grammar. Jejemons are usually hated or hunted down by Jejebusters or the grammar nazi to eradicate their grammatical ways.